The Mirror Shows Not Me
by LdyDrgnss
Summary: Post-DH The war is over, the final battle has been fought. Those who survived are working to restore Hogwarts. What will they do when rogue Death Eaters try again to resurrect their Dark Lord? How far does the plan go?
1. Prologue: It Started Like This

Prologue: It Started Like This

Minerva McGonagall was seated at her desk. Taking over as Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was proving to be a difficult task. The problems she encountered were due to the previous occupant of this office, short lived though it was. Severus Snape had, unfortunately, been unable to stop some of the other Death Eaters from defiling and, overall, mocking the once-accurate student records. Various crude, rude, and even lewd notes were marked in the records of many students, mostly half-bloods or less. McGonagall worked diligently to restore the accurate information, particularly for those that would be returning to the school in September.

Hogwarts had stood for over a thousand years educating countless young witches and wizards in all the subjects of magic. That final battle had definitely taken its toll on the castle; however, this was not the first time in history that the school had come under attack. It stood until now and would continue to stand for generations to come. Too many people in the wizarding world had ties to Hogwarts to ever truly let her fall.

McGonagall had decided to work on the files for the returning Gryffindor students first; after all, this had been her house, she knew them best. Perhaps throughout tomorrow she would tackle the Ravenclaw student records. Filius Flitwick would be able to assist her with that task. Once they were complete, Hufflepuff would likely be next with Pomona Sprout's help. Honestly, she had to admit that she was dreading going through the records for the Slytherin house students. Minerva had reason to believe that some disciplinary papers would be missing. Aside from that possibility, Slytherin, currently, had no real Head of House. Horace Slughorn had yet to respond regarding another return as Potions Master, and even if he did come back, he wasn't really that familiar with the members of Slytherin house.

"I suppose I could always ask Argus if he has copies of the disciplinary forms." she mumbled to herself. Filch did enjoy taking part in the punishment of the students.

Replacing the completed files to their proper place, the former Transfiguration professor heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs. Straightening her glasses to see who it was at this late hour, McGonagall was greeted by Filch.

"Professor! You're needed downstairs." Filch came to a stop just inside the office. The old man was bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

Standing immediately and coming around to join him, McGonagall asked, "What's happened?"

"You're not... going to believe... this one, Professor. Diggle and Jones... have returned... They..." Filch had run all the way from the front gates to the Headmistress's office. This was not in his usual nature, but when Aurors make demands it is best to follow.

Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones had not been sent alone. The worst-case scenario was already coming to McGonagall's mind. "Harry?" With that, the elderly witch hurried past the caretaker and down the stairs. The last thing she wanted was to see another student die.


	2. Chapter 1: A Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 1: A Return to Hogwarts

He was starting to wake. A hint of light becoming visible as his eyes cracked open little by little. The sun was streaming through the window above him. His vision was slowly becoming clearer, the familiar surroundings of Hogwarts' hospital wing coming into focus. Gently attempting to sit up, an ache and stiffness could be felt throughout his body, especially in his extremities. Not even the most rigorous of Quidditch practices had left him this sore all over.

Upon hearing the sounds of her lone patient stirring, Madame Pomfrey quickly made her way to the occupied bed. Pulling back the white curtains, she was greeted by a few unpleasant words as extra light bombarded the young man.

"I will not tolerate such obscenities in my ward! I don't care how poorly you feel, that is no excuse." The medi-witch had probably heard about every colorful adjective known to man during her tenure at Hogwarts. The Quidditch players were exceptionally foul-mouthed, even taking into account their frequent and often-times horrific injuries. No matter how often she heard such words nothing would make them any more acceptable to her, especially from the mouth of someone who had so recently become a former student.

"My apologies, Madame Pomfrey." With a dry throat, his voice sounded strange even to him.

"Just remember that in the future, Mr. Malfoy. I grow tired of telling you about your awful language. Now..." She moved to get a better look at her patient. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Gingerly making a second attempt to sit upright, Draco determined that he, indeed, felt worse than ever. He let himself fall back to the bed, which wasn't far. _Why does my body hurt so much? More importantly, why am I at Hogwarts?_ "Horrid. How did I come to be here?"

Madame Pomfrey had expected this question, but even anticipating it did not provide her with the best answer. "Well now, I will inform the Headmistress you are awake." She took a few steps toward the doors and called for Hestia Jones. Turning back to the young Malfoy, "Ms. Jones will keep an eye on you until my return."

The Auror stood at the foot of Draco's bed as Pomfrey left the medical ward. She said nothing to him, only watching him rather intently. Draco wasn't really sure he deserved this kind of scrutiny. She was making him feel extremely uneasy, imagining this was likely how captured Death Eaters felt in the presence of an Auror. Well, the truly guilty ones, at least. More than once, he wondered if the witch might be casting. One thing he learned from the war, Death Eaters weren't the only people that could cast unnoticed by those around them.

* * *

The double-doors of the hospital opened, Pomfrey entered closely followed by Minerva McGonagall. The now Headmistress of Hogwarts approached the young pureblood and gestured for Jones to return to her post by the door. He had been a student of this school, even under the occupation of dark wizards that nearly brought it to the ground. He was believed by many to be primarily responsible for the death of Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. Looking at him now, even after all of the recent events, McGonagall still remembered the quick-witted eleven-year-old boy that had first walked through the doors of the Great Hall.

So many things could change in such a short time. Letting out a tired sigh, McGonagall spoke. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, professor." Caution could be heard in the young pureblood's voice.

McGonagall hesitated before continuing, as though the elder which was waiting for something more to happen. "Tell me, young man, what is the last thing you can remember?" She believed his answer could make sense of the past few days. If he could provide an answer, that is. McGonagall could easily recognize, from her many years as a teacher, his expression of lost confusion. It seemed that Draco Malfoy would not be able to help at the moment.

"Minerva, it is my expert opinion in this sort of situation, to allow Mr. Malfoy a little time to organize his thoughts."

McGonagall turned to the medi-witch considering her suggestion. "Is it necessary for Mr. Malfoy to remain in the hospital ward any longer?"

"He does need more rest, but it doesn't have to be here. I believe he would rest better in private quarters." Madame Pomfrey knew that the young man would likely prefer some privacy; and she had work to do. A patient, no matter how healthy, still needed routine checking whilst in the hospital. Turning to Draco, Pomfrey asked, "Are you able to stand and walk?"

Draco needed a bit of help to stand since the ache in his muscles had not subsided; however, walking was a much easier task to achieve. He felt a little off-balance, but otherwise nothing else seemed out of sorts.

Professor McGonagall directed the Auror Jones to escort Malfoy to a room. Jones was also quietly instructed to inform the other Aurors in the castle of Malfoy's location and start a rotating watch of the young wizard. His part to play in the recent events was not yet clear.

* * *

Leaving the hospital ward, Draco was so preoccupied with his memory loss, he had lost track of his surroundings. Jones was standing in front of a door in an unfamiliar corridor. He had never been in this part of the castle. A door opened on the other end, George Weasley was coming down the hall.

"George!" Jones exclaimed. "I didn't know you were back already. All done with the new shop in Hogsmeade?"

"Almost. We still have a few details to sort out." The ginger-haired wizard gestured to Malfoy. "What's going on here?"

"McGonagall's orders. He'll be staying in the castle until further notice." The Auror directed her attention to Malfoy. "This will be your room for now. I suggest that you do not go roaming about the castle on your own."

"It could be dangerous, after all." George stated in a flat, matter-of-fact sort of tone.

Draco was starting to feel like a captive. "Since when has it ever been dangerous to walk through the halls of Hogwarts?"

George interjected before Hestia could really open her mouth. "Tell me, Malfoy. What did this castle look like the last time you saw it?" Not waiting for an answer, the lone Weasley twin continued down the corridor.

* * *

Draco had been in his new room for hours now, interrupted only by Mrs. Weasley bringing him food. She never really said much, just informing him of the meal contents. He had spent most of this time trying to answer McGonagall's question. "...w_hat is the last thing you can remember?"_

Images, sounds, and a few smells had flashed through his mind; however, none of it made any sense, yet. So far, Draco could only discern a few pieces. He remembered being in the library of Malfoy Manor, it was dark outside the windows, night time. The smell of burning herbs stung his nose, but it didn't come from the library. The sight of the black Death Eater robes and masks... He had seen **them** so many times, was it relevant or just permanently embedded in his memory?

The rest of the images were jumbled, blurry colors. Sounds that Draco was almost certain should mean something, but just didn't quite make sense. As far as the smells, it was the familiar scents of the Malfoy library or Pomfrey's hospital ward; the only other scent was that of the burning herbs. Draco couldn't determine what mix of herbs had been burning to produce that particular aroma.

The young wizard was so deep in concentration that he failed to notice a number of things. First, he had started pacing about the room while sorting through his thoughts. Second, there had been a knock at the door, followed by a low voice. Third, the door had been opened, and he was now being watched. At least he had never been in the habit of talking to himself.

* * *

Harry peered over his glasses at the blonde. So far, there had only been speculation about any odd behavior Malfoy might display; somehow, he figured this qualified.

"Malfoy!" Watching somebody pace wasn't exactly entertaining. Watching him jump and nearly losing his balance in the process was slightly amusing, though. Malfoy had been startled by the quick bark of his name. Harry suppressed a chuckle as the other wizard turned to face him.

"Potter." Malfoy's tone was flat, bored. "I might have known." He didn't appear to be surprised to see the other wizard. "What, might I inquire, brings you here?" Harry could hear the change in Malfoy's tone; no longer sounding bored but rather suspicious.

"I was asked to bring you down for dinner." Harry briefly considered how odd that sounded. "Everyone here always eats dinner together. Since you are now here..." He left the statement unfinished.

Malfoy seemed ready to retort but paused before speaking. Harry was starting to contemplate if force might become necessary if Malfoy didn't start moving. Harry was never certain anymore what to expect from the other man.

The next words out of Malfoy's mouth were definitely unexpected. "Wouldn't my presence cause an outrage among members of The Order?"

Harry could hear that Malfoy was asking more than just what the words implied. "It probably would. But there is more than just The Order here. Besides, the war is over unless you have something useful to tell me." Turning away from the annoying pureblood, Harry waited for him to follow. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. Malfoy fell into a stride alongside him.

* * *

The hallways of Hogwarts still held that familiar aura. Almost all of the paintings had been returned to their place. Draco knew that some of the artworks had been irreparably damaged during the Death Eater occupation, never able to be hung again.

Leaving his room, Draco made sure to be aware where they were going. Even in seven years, one did not usually have the chance to set foot in every hall of the great castle. When they came to the staircases, he deduced his room was on the second floor. None of the staircases were moving, they remained in stationary positions. One problem none of the Death Eaters could solve, how to make the damned stairs quit moving. His curiosity got the better of him. "What happened to the stairs?"

Potter glanced at him before answering. "McGonagall. She intends to recast the charm before September. The moving stairs are as much a part of Hogwarts as the Great Hall."

Sensing that this was going to be the only information he was given, Draco chose to ask another question. _While we are being civil..._ "Why remove the spell in the first place?"

The answer did not come immediately, but an answer was given. "Remember how annoying it was to be late for class because the stairs changed?"

"Of course." Draco recalled how many were late because of the ruddy staircases.

"The reconstruction doesn't need to be delayed. Everything has to be completed in the next two months. The stairs are important since the mayhem ravaged the entire castle. Not including that bout of fighting months before that started on the fifth floor." Potter shot a meaningful glance at him as they descended the last steps.

They were at the ground floor heading towards the Great Hall. Two months from now it would be September. Students always arrived every year on the first day of September. Throughout the centuries, fighting and prejudice had divided the wizarding world. But Hogwarts castle had always stood with open doors to any and all that could weave a spell.

Draco had to pause at the doors of the Great Hall. Not giving it any thought, he expected to see the four long house tables. Instead, the room held three large round tables. Each appeared to seat eight people and already had dishes of food filling the centers. He noted that one table was half ginger with Mr. Weasley apparently just arriving from the Ministry. A second table held mostly staff members and Aurors. The last table was filling up with very familiar faces.

Potter had taken a seat alongside Granger, Longbottom, Lovegood, and the two youngest Weasleys. A rather involved conversation was already well underway.

Draco considered which table would be the best choice, given the circumstances. He considered his options; he could sit at the table occupied mostly by Weasleys, the table consisting of teachers and Aurors, or the table filled with former classmates. Familiar former classmates with whom he had never shared a table. He didn't have much time to decide when "Looney" Lovegood waved him over to an empty chair among them. Realizing this would likely be the only invitation he would ever receive from this lot, Draco took one of the two remaining chairs between Lovegood and Granger. He nodded a silent 'thank you' to the Ravenclaw. She returned a dreamy smile before taking a bite of pumpkin bread.

"Oi, Luna!" exclaimed Weasley. "Shouldn't you eat some real dinner before the afters?" He said this as he held a forkful of mashed potatoes in one had and a chicken leg in the other.

"Ron! Since when do you have the right to tell someone how to eat?" This came from his own baby sister, the other Weasley.

Potter and Longbottom were suddenly having trouble keeping their food in their own mouths. Longbottom at one point appeared to be on the verge of choking. His face started turning colors for a moment. He managed to recover, though, all the while still laughing.

Granger was giggling at them before she spoke. "You really can't comment on Luna's eating habits. I seem to remember how little 'real dinner' you would eat at every Halloween."

This spurred the boys to pretend to start shoveling imaginary candy into their wide open mouths.

The Weasley girl added, "And every year you would still eat too much and end up in the hospital with a stomach ache." She turned to Granger and said, "Did you know he did that every Halloween before starting Hogwarts?"

In his own defense, Ron reminded Ginny that such behavior was only displayed at that particular time of year; Halloween and Christmas.

Draco was barely listening to this overly jubilant banter while filling his plate. It quickly reminded him how loud and disorderly the Gryffindor table had always been. And he did recall Halloween being the worst. Bringing his glass of pumpkin juice closer, Draco felt a strange tingling sensation at the base of his spine. He was becoming a bit light-headed for some reason. The unruly volume had faded away; it was a bit muffled.

"That was not me in that photo! That was Fred or George, but not me!" Weasley's sudden outburst rang through Draco's ears canceling the deafening sensation.

"At least I don't have to worry about those embarrassing baby photos. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never bothered to take any pictures of me." The alternate implications of Potter's statement seemed to bring a more somber feeling to the table.

As the atmosphere calmed down, Lovegood took notice of the look on Draco's face. "Malfoy, is something wrong?"

Every head within earshot turned to look as Draco Malfoy passed out onto the stone floor.


End file.
